


The Duel Off!

by WhatSoMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Banter, Competition, Daddy Draco, Domestic Fluff, Duelling, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hermione ties Draco up, Married Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Minister for Magic Hermione Granger, Oral Sex, Politics, Rita Skeeter is up to her old tricks, Young Scorpius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatSoMalfoy/pseuds/WhatSoMalfoy
Summary: Kingsley Shacklebolt is resigning as Minister for Magic and Hermione wishes to run for the position. However, a new edict declares that anyone wishing to fill the position MUST be competent in offensive and defensive magic. And so, the Duel Off was born. Feeling like this was not her strongest area of expertise, Hermione turns to her Auror husband, Draco, for some further instruction. Draco finds a way to give Hermione just that *little* extra incentive to do her best.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 26
Kudos: 111
Collections: round 12 2020





	The Duel Off!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maraudersaffair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/gifts).



> Hi Everyone! This was written for Dramione Duet's round 12. I was given a prompt of "Draco teaches Hermione to duel" by maraudersaffair and a long list of kinks - of which I tried to squeeze as many in as possible. A huuuuuuuuuge shoutout goes to [dayofclamor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayofclamor/works) for stepping in as a last-minute beta when my gorgeous go-to came down with a sickness. [FaeOrabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeOrabel/pseuds/FaeOrabel/works) is another gem who stepped up to Brit-pick and butt-kick in my time of need! You're both gorgeous and I adore you!
> 
> Extra special thanks go out to the very special, very talented [Talonwillow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ehollis303) who whipped up this gorgeous manip without even reading the work! Thank you, darling! It's gorgeous & I love it!

_Tuesday, November 30, 2010_

_Breaking News! Minister for Magic to Resign_

_by Rita Skeeter_

_Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt has announced that this will be his last year of leading Britain's Magical Community. Shacklebolt has been Minister for Magic since the downfall of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named in the year of 1998. In the twelve years following, our Minister has led us through the reformation of our Government and implemented changes-upon-changes such as banning the use of Dementors, not only in the courtroom but also as Prison Guards. Additionally, he has teamed up with our very own Golden Girl, Mrs Hermione Malfoy nee Granger, pledging to abolish tyrannical pure-blood laws, leading us into the future of equality. So why is he stepping down?_

_"It is time for me to move on from the Office of Minister, and hand the reins over to the next generation. I have been in charge for far too long, and it is time to say goodbye. My era of Ministership has come to an end, and I look forward to the next generation of Leadership." Minister Schacklebolt told us just this morning._

_But what will Minister Shacklebolt be doing once he leaves the Office?_

_"I look forward to staying on as a consultant when needed. Otherwise, I will be happily enjoying my retirement in privacy."_

_Has the Minister for Magic simply had enough of us? Or has he grown tired of politics? Either way, we look forward to seeing who will be running for the position. Some of you, like I, may wish to see our very favourite War Hero take his place. With the new edict that dictates that anyone wishing to run for the top position_ must _be competent in defensive_ and _offensive duelling, we think it's likely that we will see very familiar names in the running! Unfortunately, Harry Potter was unavailable for questioning this morning—but we will see what the future holds!_

_This Sunday, the 5th of December, all who wish to enter running for the Minister for Magic, will participate in a 'Duel Off'. From Sunrise to Sunset—the final four participants standing will be eligible to run for your vote. Yours truly will be attending, and fret not! I will provide you with a detailed account of the who's who and the what's what!_

_Stay tuned, dear readers! I will uncover all of the juicy details of the upcoming election!_

Hermione slammed the Daily Prophet down on the breakfast bar, rattling the goblets, china, and silverware. Would that woman _never_ learn? The absolute _rot_ that she could spin! _I don't believe in censorship. I don't believe in censorship,_ Hermione chanted to herself. If she were to be elected Minister, she'd have the power to remove Skeeter from _The Daily Prophet_. However, no matter how distasteful Hermione found Rita to be; she could never bring herself to abuse any potential power that way. As she watched Rita's figure dance along the page next to her byline, Hermione repeated the mantra in her head again. _I do_ not _believe in censorship!_

"Morning, Mum," Scorpius said, plopping himself down into the stool next to her. 

"Good morning, darling!" Hermione wrapped an arm around his head and brought it to her lips for a kiss, ruffling his hair as she did.

"Muuuuuuuum," Scorpius complained. "I'm nearly six! You can't _kiss_ me like that, anymore! I'm a big kid!" The pout he gave her next was straight out of his father's playbook, as was the way he smoothed his hair back down.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Hermione said, faux apology written all over her face. "What would you like to eat? I'll make you whatever you want to make up for it!" Hermione stood and rounded the breakfast bar, standing confidently in the kitchen— looking for all the world like she belonged there. She did not.

"Oh, uh... Is it Moppy's day off?" Scorpius asked quietly.

"No, darling. She's here, but mummy wants to make you something special. Is that alright?"

"Say yes, Scorp. Or you'll never hear the end of it." Draco sauntered into the kitchen. His black Auror's robes billowed around him as he offered Hermione a wink. Even after all these years, he still made her feel weak in the knees. "And when your mother's not looking, I'll help you vanish whatever it is and feed you the cookies I keep hidden in my office!"

"You absolutely will not!" Hermione stood with her hands on her hips. "I may not be the best cook in the world, but I _can_ make breakfast."

"In that case, I'll have cereal. You can't burn cereal," Draco drawled, shooting Scorpius a quick grin.

"Cereal for me too!" Scorpius agreed. 

With a huff, Hermione pulled a few boxes from the pantry and set them before the two most important people in her world. The boxes fell over and spilt onto the table. Hermione didn't seem to care. Collecting the milk from the refrigerator, she slammed it onto the counter. The pressure from the crash with the bench had the lid busting off the plastic container and spraying milk onto the countertop and over her face. 

Draco and Scorpius exchanged a look, unsure whether to laugh or to back away slowly. The decision was made for them when Hermione started to giggle. "Breakfast is served," she said, wiping milk from her eyes and grinning at her two boys.

Draco reached over the bench and kissed her face wherever there was milk.

"Ewwwwwwwwwwwww, Dad. Stop it! That's so gross!" Scorpius complained, his magic lifting the chocolate cereal and pouring it for him. Draco and Hermione shared a grin before settling in for the most important meal of the day. 

* * *

"Now that we're alone, do you want to discuss this again?" Draco asked his wife, running his fingers over the edge of the Daily Prophet.

"Don't you think it's too soon? I thought I'd wait until Scorpius is at Hogwarts, at least. Kingsley resigning _has_ put a rush on things, though. Maybe I should wait for the next one?"

"No way. You're more than ready for this. Scorpius will be fine. He will be more than fine; he will be proud! His mother, who can't cook, will be running the whole country!"

"I'm barely even thirty years old, who in their right minds would let me run a country?"

Draco scoffed. "You're the _Brightest Witch of our Age_ , Granger. If people _didn't_ vote for you, I'd be surprised. Plus, Potter will back you. They might as well swear you in tomorrow."

Hermione groaned in response. "You're just saying that because you love me. And really, Harry shouldn't back me—or anyone else for that matter. The public opinion is too easily swayed when he enters the picture. I need to win on my own merits. But this new law about being able to duel— - I understand it, Scrimgeour looked intimidating, but when it came down to it, he was taken out in barely a minute. And don't even get me started on Fudge. The new law makes sense, but I haven't had a reason to duel since the war. I'm all out of practice. I doubt I'd make it past round one," Hermione confessed, downcast. 

"Good thing you have an Auror for a husband then," Draco smirked, sending butterflies through her stomach. "I can get access to exactly what the judges will be looking for. We can prep you for it."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Hermione admonished him. "Not only are you a member of law enforcement—meaning you should _enforce_ the law, not break it; but you are also going to be the husband of the next Minister for Magic. Do you seriously think that we could cheat our way there—and that I'd condone it?"

"Never for one minute, my dear. I just needed to rile you up, a little. You know how I like it when your curls spark with magic," he winked. "I promise that I will not look for _or_ at the judges manual. What I _can_ do is help you brush up on those duelling techniques!"

"Oh," the breath left Hermione's lungs in a rush. "That would actually be very helpful. How would we go about doing that?"

"I can book us the training room in the DMLE for a couple of nights this week. My mother can come and stay with Scorpius while we're there. No one would even need to know," he said, both eyebrows raised. "And," he continued, a devilish grin lighting up his face, "we could make it fun."

The effect he still had on her nervous system was spiritual. Her insides liquified when he dropped his voice down an octave. "What exactly do you propose?" She asked, hands gripping the countertop to keep her steady.

"A contest. I know how competitive you are, Granger. I propose that we have a few practice sessions; topped with a duelling battle. Winner reaps the rewards. Either way, you'll be well prepared for the Duel Off."

"And what would those rewards be?" Hermione asked. She was proud when her voice came out strong and steady. She needed to hustle him right back.

"Hmm," Draco pondered. He cast a quick _Muffliato_ at the kitchen entryway, ensuring that Scorpius would not overhear. "The winner shall have their pick of sexual favours, positions, and kinks for a whole month," he winked. "And no sex of any kind from now until the winner is declared. It will be difficult, of course, but that will make the win _that_ much sweeter!" He released the charm on the doorway.

Hermione's knees nearly buckled. There were certain things she'd wanted to try but never dared to suggest. She lowered herself back down into a bar stool. "A whole month?" She confirmed. 

"Sound good?" Draco asked in a way that meant he knew _precisely just_ how good it sounded. 

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "I believe that sounds very fair. You should know that I am _quite_ determined to win now."

"That was the idea, my dear," Draco stood behind her, pressing into her back.

Hermione could feel his erection beneath his robes as he rubbed against her. Her breath caught in her throat. He leant over and whispered in her ear, breath tickling her neck. 

"Think long and _hard_ about what you'd like to do to me, Granger. Rest assured, I'll be doing the same." His teeth grazed her ear as he pulled away.

Hermione sat perfectly still, her breathing harsh in her ears until she heard the whoosh of Floo powder in the fireplace. 

"Ministry of Magic," Draco declared. Hermione turned just in time to catch him winking at her before the flames carried him away.

Collecting her errant thoughts and butterflies, she cleared the breakfast dishes away and went in search of a goodbye kiss from her son, who was busy with his morning lessons with Gilda. 

* * *

That night, Hermione was found in the library, pouring over old manuscripts on ancient duelling techniques. Draco lowered himself into an armchair next to hers, peaking at what she was reading.

"Did you know that the first person to win a duelling contest was a woman? In fourteen-thirty Alberta Toothill—yes, _Toothill_ , you heard me right—won against Samson Wiblin with a blasting curse. The first of its kind. Can you imagine a world without _Confringo?_ Incredible!" Hermione gushed. 

"I don't doubt it for one second, Granger. Women have always been the stronger of our species in my not so humble opinion. You and my mother are living proof."

Hermione looked up and met his eyes with a warm smile on her face. "You always know exactly the right words to say, my love," she leaned over to peck him chastely on the cheek. 

"So, Granger," Draco said, clearing his throat. "Let us have our first little lesson. What can you remember about duelling from school?"

"Very little," Hermione confessed. "The duelling club had been closed for years, and we only got to see a little bit of it thanks to Lockhart. But really, that was hopeless," Hermione giggled with a snort.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "What's so funny?"

"Just remembering how Harry put you on your arse," Hermione tittered again, her eyes watering.

"Yes, well, I'd like to see him try again now. Wouldn't you?" Draco's cheeks had taken on a slight pink hue.

"I'm honestly not sure if that would be in your best interest, my dear. Or mine. We might like another child one day!"

Draco stood and poured himself two fingers of Firewhisky, glaring at her while he did. He took a sip and diverted Hermione back on course. "So, other than his love of lilac, what other wisdom did Lockhart manage to impart?"

"Hmm," Hermione thought. "Niceties must be upheld. A wizarding duel should always be polite—not that there is much time to bow before your opponent in a real battle," she scoffed. "Is it a rule that you need to take turns in a duel? Parry each blow one at a time? Wouldn't that make one side always on the defence, and the other always on offence?"

"No, it doesn't work quite like that. Once you've blocked, you'll be free to return fire. Keeping, of course, to the polite rules of not aiming to kill one another," Draco said ironically. “At least not in this situation. I assume that the electorate would like to know that you could and _would_ take care of them if the need arose, though. So I'm not sure how they will incorporate that into the test," Draco shrugged. "Are you sure you don't want to cheat?"

"Always the Slytherin in the room," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Cunning, ambition and resourcefulness are how I ended up with you. Can you blame me for holding onto those values?"

"I guess not," Hermione admitted, melting under his sweet smile. The smile reserved only for herself and their son. From the moment she had found out that she was pregnant, Draco had been nothing but supportive; attentive to her every need. And when Scorpius had been born, she had never seen his face alight with so many emotions. He was the epitome of a perfect father.

“And what about the spellwork? Are we allowed to use non-verbal spells?” Hermione asked, curious.

"Non-verbal magic in a battle is useful and grants you a better chance of success. However, in a sporting duel, it is generally frowned upon. I've booked the training room for the next two nights so that we can get in a little practice before Saturday—our day of reckoning. Have you thought about your list, yet?"

"I've thought a little about it," Hermione lied. She'd thought of almost nothing else. "But I'll tell you this right now, Draco Malfoy. You'd better leave that _thing_ off of yours. There are many things I want to do to you, but _that_ is not one of them," she shuddered.

"I'll do no such thing!" He played at being offended. "I'll make my list, and you'll make yours. If you don't like something on my list, I suggest that you try very hard to win," he said with a wink. "I'm going to watch Scorp sleep for a bit before I go to bed. Goodnight, my love," he blew her a kiss and swept out of the library. 

Cheeks red, Hermione went back to her manuscript. 

* * *

The next evening, Hermione found herself in the large white training room of the DMLE. Mannequins stood off to one side of the room, weights and other training equipment on the other. Blue mats were spread over the majority of the floor, providing adequate space for people to spar and duel in relative safety. Hermione stood at the end of one of these mats and stared at her husband, who stood ten metres away at the other. 

Draco was wearing a grin that suggested Hermione ought to be at least a little afraid. Instead, it turned her on. This would be fun. Gone were his Auror robes; in their place, he was wearing something more akin to his old Quidditch uniform. Dark green jumper and all. Hermione dressed similarly in something she could either spar or do yoga. Duelling wasn't something she was prepared for, wardrobe wise. 

"First, you salute to show the opposition that you are ready to duel. Hold your wand like this.” He raised his wand and vertically held it in front of his face. “If they have a keen eye, they will see what your wand is made of, and maybe try to guess at the wood, core, and flexibility. You may not know this, but there are certain types of wands more suited to a duel. For example…” his eyes twinkled, “ _Hawthorn_.” Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, amused. “Who am I kidding? Of course, you knew that!" Draco chuckled as Hermione opened her mouth to tell him so.

"So, like this?" She asked, wand held in vertically in front of her face, to the left side of her nose. 

"Perfect. Now you'll want to assume a defensive stance. Wand to the front, lean back on your left leg to block, but place your right leg in a way that you can lunge if necessary. Don’t lock your knees. Yes, just like that. Wand in the air, ready to strike or deflect, and in three, two, one—"

Draco lunged at her, wand whipping through the air. " _Expelliarmus_ ," he shouted.

Hermione sidestepped just a second too late. Her wand flew into the air, making a graceful arc between the two of them. Smirking, Draco caught it, and she glared at him. He tossed her wand back to her. "Let's go again," he said.

Hermione resumed the pose he had taught her, determined to be ready this time. When a blue light flashed, and the shout came, this time a _Flipendo_ , Hermione blocked him instantly. " _Protego_ ," she yelled. 

Draco raised an eyebrow, allowing Hermione to strike. 

" _Levicorpus!_ " 

Draco's smug look vanished as he twirled out of the line of fire. His wand trained back on her an instant later. With his wand still in his hand, he clapped. "Great job, Granger. That was perfect. I didn't even see it coming."

"You should have, you know me better than anyone."

"Maybe I should stop underestimating you now that you've warmed up?"

"That would be for the best, Malfoy. I'll need to be at peak performance if you want to be married to the Minister for Magic. Shall we go again?" 

"Let's," he agreed, centring himself on the blue mat once more.

* * *

Two days later and Hermione was feeling exhausted, but more than confident. While their training session the night before had left her a little bruised, she knew she banged up Draco just as much. Hermione had spent every free waking moment with her head in a strategy book or practising her offensive and defensive spell work. Their duel was the next day, but for now, she, Draco, and Scorpius were following their yearly 'First Friday of December' tradition of hanging the Christmas decorations around the manor.

Mostly the house-elves took care of most of the manor, but Hermione and Draco liked to do the living room with Scorpius. Put up the tree and let him make his own decisions on how it should be decorated.

Tomorrow, Narcissa would come and stay with their son while they spent the day at the DMLE, playing a best of three in the duels. Hermione was sure she could win. She had learned a lot from her husband over the last few days, but she had also held herself back. She didn't want him to know all of her secrets on the battlefield. It was her goal to keep him on his toes and send his list soaring into the fireplace. 

Hermione reclined in her favourite chair and lifted a glass of brandy to her lips, watching as Draco lifted Scorpius high into the air to place the star on top of the tree. She laughed out loud as Draco pretended to drop their son, Scorpius squealing as a result. 

Hermione glanced at the clock and did a double-take. It was later than she had thought. "Come on, Scorp! It's way past your bedtime! Let's get going, young man!"

"Awww," Scorpius complained. "I thought you didn't notice!"

"Well, I did, and now it's time to get going! Don't make me chase you!" Hermione winked at her son who was attempting to vanish behind the large pine tree. 

Scorpius grinned and took off at a run, Draco hot on his heels and Hermione not that far behind. Together they ran in and out of several rooms on the ground floor of the Malfoy manor, before finally chasing Scorpius up the staircase and into his bedroom. Scorpius collapsed onto his bed in a fit of giggles. Hermione clutched her side, feeling a stitch coming on. 

Both parents grinning like fools, Hermione supervised Scorpius changing into his pyjamas, tucked him into bed and kissed him goodnight. "Sweet dreams, little Dragon," she cooed, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. She walked straight into Draco's arms and placed her head on his chest. "How did we get so lucky?" She asked him.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to answer that particular question, love. No matter how many times you ask it. But for now," he looked up at the ceiling where a sprig of mistletoe was growing and winding its way down towards them. 

Hermione grinned and reached up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his lips. The connection was electric. Hermione suddenly felt the loss of contact from the last few days hit like a dose of _Pepper Up Potion._ She could almost feel the steam escaping her as she clung tighter to him. Draco was similarly affected. He picked her up and had her pressed against the wall before she had even registered his hands on her hips. 

Their tongues clashed as Hermione wove her hands through his hair, clenching her fingers around small locks, and tugging on them until Draco hissed and broke the kiss. He latched instead on to her neck, sucking and biting a bruise into her sensitive skin, driven mad by her bucking hips and mewling mouth. 

"Take me to bed," Hermione pleaded, bringing his lips back to hers.

"No can do, pet," he hissed, biting her bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed. "We made a pact. No sex of any kind until tomorrow. Show me how well you can practice your patience." He unwrapped her legs from his hips and allowed her to slide down the wall gently.

"Bastard," she quipped. "I guess I'll have to settle for a cold shower for now. But tomorrow, oh ho, _tomorrow_ , you'll regret this moment. I'll make sure of it," she grinned flirtatiously. She spun on her heel and headed in the direction of their bedroom. 

* * *

Hermione awoke early the next morning to discover that Draco was already gone. She suspected that if she were to go looking, she'd find him outside, running his usual track around the grounds. Today would be no exception to his routine. Hermione, however, would be changing hers. She showered quickly, making sure to take care of any unwanted body hair. Checking to make sure that Draco was still gone, she pulled a black box out from under their bed. The word _Bordelle_ shimmered across the lid in white glitter. 

Hermione pulled the lingerie from the box and secured the multi-strap harness around her neck and waist. Next, she slipped on her sheer black knickers, and their matching-brief harness. Finally, she fastened the matching sheer soft cup bra across her shoulder blades. Hermione pulled on a pair of jeans and a long, woollen jumper—thoroughly disguising what was underneath. Win or lose—she would surprise her husband today.

She was lacing up her sneakers when Draco entered their bedroom, dripping with sweat. Hermione watched him enter the room. She leaned back on her elbows and kept their eye contact as Draco began to remove every article of his clothing slowly.

"Enjoying the show, love?"

"Just thinking of all the things I'm going to do to that body after I win today," Hermione grinned as he slipped his pants off. He left a trail of clothes on the floor leading to the bathroom. 

"I'm looking forward to reading that list, Granger. Merlin knows it'll be my list we'll be adhering to over the next month!" He called from the bathroom

"We'll see about that, Malfoy! I'll ask Moppy for a hearty breakfast for us today. You'll need some extra padding for the walloping you're about to receive!"

The sound of the shower turning on muffled his next comment, but Hermione heard it nonetheless. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, dear." She could _hear_ his smirk from where she still sat on the bed. Shaking her head and acknowledging her own grin, Hermione left to the kitchen.

* * *

For the third time that week, Hermione stood at one end of an ugly blue mat, contemplating her husband who stood at the other. It was still early in the day, and on this occasion, they were not alone. There were a few other Aurors on weekend duty, killing some idle time on the weights, or practising their spell work on the mannequins on the other side of the room. Hermione eyed them with unease. It was going to be a whole lot less comfortable putting Draco on his arse with an audience. 

Hermione cleared her throat. "Are you ready, darling?" She called, desperately trying to avoid attracting the attention of the other Aurors. Unfortunately, seeing their colleague face-off with his famous wife was a drawcard all on its own. At least three other people stopped what they were doing and turned to stare. Hermione tried very hard to block them out. Draco, on the other hand, seemed to relish the attention.

"Whenever you are, my love." He replied, signature smirk firmly in place.

They both assumed their preferred battle stance. "Best of three?" Hermione confirmed.

"Not that we'll get that far, love. Two rounds ought to do it."

"We'll just see about that," Hermione snickered, bending forward in a mock bow of respect.

Draco imitated her. The moment he righted himself, Hermione sprung into action. 

" _Flipendo!_ "

A blue beam of light shot out. He ducked out of the way in the nick of time. 

His eyebrows rose. During their practice sessions, Hermione had always allowed him to strike first, but she had no such intentions today. She smirked back at him, quirking an eyebrow. With her wand in her right hand, Hermione used her left index finger to beckon him. "Bring it," she said.

"Hmm," Draco purred playfully. He turned quickly back to the middle of the mat and barked " _Expelliarmus!_ " Apparently, Hermione wasn't the only one who had been holding back.

" _Protego!_ _Tarantellegra!_ " Her shield rippled as her curse shot out. To her joy and utter amazement, the jinx landed on target. Draco's legs began an uncontrollable dance, kicking back and forth.

"Shit," he cursed. Legs dancing wildly, he concentrated training his wand on her chest, trying to stabilise his shaky wand hand. " _Impedimenta_."

Her eyes widened as the turquoise beam of light flashed through the air. Her limbs froze. She was rendered motionless and mute for a few seconds.

He cancelled out the dancing jinx with a slash of his wand, while her eyes darted back and forth helplessly. By the time he righted himself, Hermione was free, too. 

He looked up to see the dark green light just before it hit and knocked him off his feet. This time, Hermione's _Levicorpus_ hit him square in the chest. He was yanked off of his feet to dangle upside down in the air.

Smugly, Hermione sang out to him. "Shall we call this one my win?"

He grunted. "Fine, first round to you, Granger," Draco yelled back. " _Liberacorpus_ ," he said, aiming his wand at his suspended feet. He dropped to the ground with an undignified thud and caught his colleagues watching with unabashed joy.

"Looks like your wife really has got you by the balls, Malfoy," one called.

Hermione beamed. Suddenly, she wasn't so annoyed by the spectators. 

"Shove off, MacDougall," Draco laughed, trying to keep his cool. "Gotta let the lady win at least once," he shrugged.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling." Hermione grinned. "Again?"

"You know, I'm not sure that this is such a great idea anymore, Granger. You seem to have learned a lot in the last few days. I'm suddenly questioning my chances at getting the prize—"

"Oi, what's the prize? Can I get in on this?" Called another Auror.

"You want to tell them, Granger?" Draco asked. He was a devil. Hermione turned red as a radish, wholly wrong-footed by the thought. She wouldn't be able to concentrate on the next round unless she shut down this line of questioning.

"I don't think that will be necessary. Haven't you all got work to do?" She turned, giving every single witness a full-fledged Hermione Jean Granger glare down. Satisfaction coursed through her body as they all retreated to their previous tasks. Once again, she quirked an eyebrow at her husband, and his trademark smirk dropped when he realised he'd lost the verbal round, too. 

"Resume your position, Granger. Let's go again. I'm ready to claim my winnings," he growled at her.

Desire swooped through her abdomen and settled in her core. It felt like an age since he'd touched her. Hermione leaned back on her left leg, with her right ready to lunge, just as he'd instructed her. Her wand held tightly in her right hand; she lifted it to her face.

Another bow each signalled the beginning of their next duel. Hermione was quick on her feet, but this time Draco was expecting her.

" _Reducto!_ " The force of the spell hit Hermione's hastily produced shield and brought it crashing down around her. She wasn’t fazed at all.

She lunged forward, hurling an _Expulso_ at him. "Is that how you want to play it, Malfoy?" She called with a mischievous glint in her eye as the flash of blue light grazed his ear. "Fine by me!" He stumbled back a few steps, and her heart stuttered. Hermione didn't want to hurt Draco too severely. She had plans for him this evening. 

And every other evening for the next four weeks. 

He, too, had been reluctant to try and do his wife damage for obvious reasons, but now he was ready to let caution fly to the wind. Hermione wouldn't want him to go easy on her.

" _Locomotor Mortis_ ," he retaliated, wand vibrating in his hand.

Panic coursed through her veins when her legs seized underneath her. She couldn't move them one inch. _Her arms!_ She realised that she still had control of them with relish.

" _Avis Oppugno_ ," she whispered, and a flock of angelic but angry birds erupted from her wand, soaring towards Draco with uncanny speed.

" _Langlock_ ," he said smugly before the birds were on him. Unable to dodge the jinx, Draco had now rendered her immobile _and_ mute as her tongue fixed itself to the roof of her mouth. 

After several uncomfortable moments, Draco rid himself of the canaries. "Shall we call this one a win to me, Granger?" Draco asked, taunting her. Hermione glared in response and offered a stiff nod. Draco gave a predatory smile and released both spells from her body. 

"Well, well. It seems that we have to go for a third-round after all. Well done, Granger."

"Hmmm, I see that your swagger and arrogance has returned now that you've won a round. But that's all you'll be winning, Malfoy."

"I'm curious, Granger. You haven't _actually_ told me what it is you'd like to win."

"Come here, darling, and I'll whisper it in your ear," Hermione smiled. Its lure was both dangerous and exciting. Draco could _feel_ his blood rushing through his veins. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he approached her and leaned down so that she could do as she suggested.

Hermione rested her palms on his chest and walked her fingers up towards his collar bone. She pressed her lips against his ear. "I've been researching the most delightful ways to tie you up, Mr Malfoy."

Draco's pulse started to race, a blush creeping up his neck. 

Hermione's whisper was husky when she continued. "I'm going to sit on your face until you make me scream your name, and then, when I'm good and ready, I'll sit on your cock and ride it until my heart's content. And if you come before I want you to, there will be a price to pay, Draco, and it will be hefty. And this is just my plan for tonight."

At some point during Hermione's hot confession, Draco had grabbed hold of her waist, attempting to pull her closer to him. He sucked in one ragged breath after the other, trying to find his lost equilibrium. Beneath her jumper, his fingers encountered something he wasn't expecting, something hard—a buckle? Hermione swatted his hand away before he could investigate further. 

"Later," she mouthed at him, returning to her start position.

"Last round, love. Are you ready?" Hermione called, eyes sparkling. _She_ was ready to have her way with him.

"In more way than one, Mrs Malfoy," he teased.

Hermione glared at him. He had eventually won that argument, and when they were married, she took his name. It was legally correct, but she rarely used the name in her day to day life. She was a Granger and proud of it. 

"Right then, show me your _wand!_ " She quipped. Hoping and succeeding in making Draco stutter. Eyebrows raised, he cleared his throat and lifted his wand to his face, his other hand brushing against his crotch with a wink before he twisted it behind his back.

Hermione was not going to go easy on him, nor was she going to mess up this time. She spun instantly out of the way, anticipating Draco's speed and precision. 

" _Deprimo!_ " She shouted, aiming at the ground just before his feet. The green spell blasted holes in the floor around Draco's feet. Gratification washed over her. That was sure to bring the attention of his colleagues back, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to care.

Draco barely lost his footing, but his smile did slip which was satisfaction enough for Hermione. 

" _Rictusempra_ ," he exclaimed, precariously hopping around the crumbling ground below him. 

Hermione drew her shield around her so quickly that her vision swam for a moment. The spell held, and she spared herself from the tickling charm, thank Merlin.

" _Petrificus Totalus_ ," she cried out, hoping against hope that her husband would go down easily. She was not so lucky. Draco's shield kept him similarly safe. 

"How about a truce, Granger?" He called out, sarcasm dripping. "That way, we both go home happy!" 

"In your dreams, Malfoy. You're going down!"

"Have it your way, then, love. _Stupefy!_ "

Hermione skidded to the side just in time though she could still feel the heat of the hex lingering in the air as she moved back to attack. " _Incarcerous_ ," she yelled, watching with mixed horror and delight as the ropes from her wand wound themselves around Draco's body and he fell to the side, a wriggling mass. 

Hermione let out a whoop of joy. Her chest was heaving up and down, and her throat burned, but every nerve in her body was buzzing. The adrenaline pounding through her heart seeped away slowly, and pure rapture replaced it.

Draco was incapacitated, his wand lying just inches from his outstretched fingers. Hermione repaired the floor around him with a wave of her wand and stalked over to her trussed up prey. 

"I guess this means you win," Draco declared, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Care to release me, Granger?"

Hermione crouched down low next to him, expression one of ponder. "You know, this isn't half bad. Almost as sexy as the knots I plan to use on you later. Maybe I'll just hitch you over my shoulder and carry you home like this?" She suggested salaciously, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Don't you dare," Draco hissed, eying his colleagues. "Release me now, Witch!"

Hermione tutted. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, darling. That won't do at all! You'll pay for that one later," Hermione winked. Nevertheless, she released the spell and Draco was free once more.

He sat up abruptly and pulled her into his lap. Then his mouth was on hers, and it was Hermione's turn to be embarrassed—unable to stop herself from the slight grind of her hips against his hard crotch. 

A groan escaped her lips, and she pulled away in haste. "Where is the closest private office?" She whispered fiercely, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and meeting his heated gaze. 

"Act cool, and follow me," Draco responded, his voice low and gravelly.

Hermione pushed off of his lap and smoothed her hair back, pulling her jumper back into place. She cleared her throat and waited while Draco collected their things.

"See you guys on Monday," he called to his colleagues.

Hermione allowed herself to offer them a small wave before following her husband out of the training room. 

The moment they were out of the room, Draco took Hermione's hand and pulled her quickly through the corridor. When they were alone, he pushed her up against the wall and kissed her until the breath left her lungs.

"You are so fucking sexy, did you know that?" He asked her, his fingers tangled in her curls.

"You-you've mentioned it once or twice," Hermione panted, clawing at his clothes. "A room, Draco, we need a room with a door that locks!"

"Right," he responded, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. "This way!" Draco pulled her through another hallway and stopped in front of a door.

"Harry's office?" Hermione barked, incredulous. 

"It's the closest thing to privacy we'll get here," Draco assured her. 

Steeling herself, Hermione put her hand on the doorknob and twisted. The office came into view and was surprisingly tidy. Hermione would be impressed if she had more than two seconds to consider it. Draco had one hand her hair and the other inching under her sweater.

Somehow they had made it into the office and closed the door behind them. Hermione was only distantly aware of this because her back was pressed up against Harry's door while her husband all but ripped her sweater over her head, revealing her choice of underwear.

He sucked in a sharp lungful of air. Releasing it, he considered her. "Well, well, well, Mrs Malfoy. What do we have here?"

"A consolation prize," Hermione sniffed, reminding him just who had won their competition. 

"One I am ready to claim," he licked his lips, dipping his head and sucking at her right nipple through the barely-there fabric. Hermione threw her head back and arched her spine, careless of the pain as her head connected with the door frame. Draco's mouth was positively sinful on her body, his hands making short work of the fastenings of her jeans. He pushed them down her hips to reveal the rest of his prize. 

Draco stepped away, wanting to fully appreciate the garment that Hermione was wearing. Even with her pants wrapped around her ankles and caught on her sneakers, she was a sight to behold.

"Fucking goddess," he whispered, eyes full of molten desire.

Hermione's cheeks heated at the praise. She toed off her shoes and stepped out of her jeans. 

Hermione swallowed down her desperation. She was in control here today. She rounded Harry's desk and sat in his chair. She steepled her fingers and watched him with dark eyes. "I want you to take your clothes off for me. Slowly," she told him.

Draco said nothing but lifted his right eyebrow in surprise. Slowly, he removed his shoes. Then his sweater, one arm at a time, toying with its hem before lifting it over his head. 

Hermione lost focus for a moment, drawn in by the abs he worked so hard for. Well worth it in her perspective. Brought back to the present by the sound of a zipper, Hermione leaned back in Harry's chair, desire swooping through her belly as Draco released his erection from the confines of his pants. The pink head of his dick poking out through his boxer shorts. Hermione licked her lips before she could stop herself.

A small smile of satisfaction escaped Draco's determination to take his wife seriously. She was acting much more fun than he anticipated. He would never have suspected that she'd be into Shibari, but what she had said to him between duels was playing on repeat in his head. _I'm going to tie you up_ , it whispered. _Ride you until my heart's content_ , it teased. 

When he stood before her in all his naked glory, Hermione beckoned to him. Obediently, he rounded the desk and stood before her—at attention in more ways than one. 

"On your knees," Hermione dictated. Once he had complied, she gave him her next instruction. "Bury your head between my legs and make me come in whatever way you see fit." Her words affected them both. Hermione was feeling brave and empowered, her passion running rampant. Heat pooled between her thighs, and she knew that Draco would find her already dripping.

Ever so slowly, Draco placed a hand on each of her knees, pushing them gently apart. He dipped his head between her legs and laved at her clit through her knickers. Tasting her arousal, he growled and leaned back in for more. The friction of the fine mesh underneath the vibrations of his tongue had Hermione edging closer to climax faster than she had anticipated. On the one hand, she knew he would make her come and hard. On the other, she wanted to make him work for it, just a little bit longer. "Slow down," she commanded, "and take my knickers off. They cost a fortune, I don't want them ruined," she scolded him.

"I'll buy you another ten pairs if you let me rip these off of you," he promised her. 

Eyes dancing, she tilted her head in consideration. "Fine," she agreed. "But be gentle!"

Draco hooked one finger on either side of her panties, glanced up at her with sin in his eyes and pushed a hole through them, right at her centre. Hermione gasped audibly and threw her head back as his digits came into contact with her over sensitive clit. He took a firm grip on either side of the gash he'd created and pulled at the underwear until it lay in tatters on the seat Hermione sat on. The moment she was free of them, he ducked back between her legs, running his tongue all over her, in and out. Sucking and nipping, laving and dancing his tongue over her sensitive mound. Hermione threw her head back in ecstasy as he slowly inserted a finger into her dripping warmth. He curled it around, reaching for her g-spot. He found it quickly and successfully, and with a few quick strokes, she was coming undone around him.

"Satisfied, Mrs Malfoy?" He asked her with a devilish smirk, slowly wiping his mouth with just one finger, before slowly inserting it between his lips. Dragging it in and out slowly, watching Hermione's eyes go from hot to molten. 

"Not quite yet, Mr Malfoy," she replied, voice deep and husky. She stood, and switched their positions, making him take the seat. She straddled him, slowly sinking, her snatch swallowing his hard cock whole. They groaned in unison. Hermione was full of him. With his hand on her hips and hers braced on the back of the chair, she began to rock back and forth. Ever so slowly, Hermione took her pleasure from him, caring little about her husband's stamina. He could take it, she knew. When he moved his hands from her hips to squeeze her arse, she picked up her pace, feeling the delicious stretch even more. 

Draco left one hand on her gorgeous arse and moved the other back to her front. He needed to make her come again before he did, and he set a brutal pace on her clit with his forefinger.

"Fuuuuuck," Hermione groaned, her need coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to spring at any given moment. "Yes, Draco. Don't stop. Yes, yes, fuck!" She repeated, breath hitching in his ear.

Her curls flopped over his face as she stilled on top of him, spent. Draco grunted, finally able to release his load into her perfect and pulsing cunt. 

They stayed locked in an embrace for several moments, catching their breath and waiting for feeling to return to their bones. 

"Merlin, I love you," Draco whispered against her ear. "So fucking perfect. So fucking sexy. So fucking smart. I'll never understand how you forgave me for being such a shit to you for all those years. I'll never deserve you, but you deserve to be Minister. I know you'll win. Tomorrow and then the election. You're fucking brilliant in every way."

Hermione didn't respond with words. For once, they wouldn't come to her. She peppered kisses over his face instead. 

Several long moments later, Hermione extricated herself from his lap. Slowly, she got dressed, vanishing her tattered underwear. Draco watched her from the chair. When Hermione finished putting Harry's office back as it was, she took a seat on top of Harry's desk. 

Silver eyes met amber eyes.

"Draco Malfoy, I forgave you because you worked for my forgiveness. There was no one magical moment that won my heart. It was years of hard work, dedication, and a willingness to prove yourself. You deserve my love just as much as I deserve yours. Now let's get home to our son!" She slipped off the desk and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. "Oh, and clean that chair off!" 

* * *

_Monday, December 6, 2010_

_Breaking News! Golden Girl Granger runs in the race for the Ministership!_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In an explosive Duel Off held in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement yesterday, four new candidates have won the chance to run for the top position of Minister for Magic. Mrs Hermione Malfoy nee Granger, our Golden Girl and war Heroine, runs against three male candidates for the job. Controversially, one of her opponents is a childhood friend, and brother to ex-flame, Ronald Weasley. Percy Weasley had the following to say:_

_"I look forward to a clean race against Granger, Smith, and O'Sullivan. I will certainly not allow family or friends any leniency in my campaign. I aim to win this election and to serve this country as it deserves. Thank you!"_

_And what did Mrs Malfoy nee Granger have to say about her candidacy, I hear you ask? As an old friend to this talented witch, she gave me the inside scoop!_

_"If I am elected Minister for Magic next year, you can count on me to continue doing all of the fantastic work of Minister Shacklebolt. I will bring us into the new decade strong and confident. I will listen to my constituents, and I will run my Government honestly. Thank you for your time, Rita!"_

Hermione slammed the newspaper on the small table in the conservatory, where she and Draco often took their afternoon tea. "That conniving Witch!" She snarled. 

Draco looked up from his copy of the paper. "What? She has only said good things about you?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

"I did not bloody thank her for her time! She quoted me! I could kill her!"

Draco stifled a chuckle, but couldn't help the small smile that escaped. He patted her knee affectionately. "Killing her _could_ help you in the polls, but I'd hazard to guess that the public probably won't elect a Minister who murders. Probably best to just imagine her already dead, love."

Hermione huffed. He was right, of course. But that didn't stop her blood from boiling with every one of Skeeter's insipid words.

This was going to be one long campaign. 


End file.
